


The story about the joker and the thief in the night.

by lunatic_99



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Falling In Love, Fighting, Gambling, Joker - Freeform, Journey, League Setting, M/M, Oskar is Graves, Thief, Tim is Twisted Fate, Unconventional Relationship, a bit of fluff cause I like fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:42:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21691666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunatic_99/pseuds/lunatic_99
Summary: Tim is his own kind of famous. Everyone knows him. The boy that plays with his cards. The boy that wins everything. The boy that is not really a fair player. Well, Tim considers his way of playing very fair. The others just don't know how to play.Oskar isn't really in for games. He likes to get what he wants without wasting his precious time. Even if people might die for it.A perfect match, isn't it?
Relationships: Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek/Tim "Nemesis" Lipovšek
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	1. The Joker

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my... third story here!  
> The story about the joker and the thief in the night.  
> I have to admit, I really love that title.  
> I got this idea almost a year ago while listening to Wolfmother's song. But it never really worked out in my head until this morning. So here we go. I have no idea where this is going but I'm all in and I hope you guys are too.  
> Have fun with the first chapter!
> 
> (Again, disclaimer: English is not my first language so excuse me my mistakes!)

**The Joker**

_“It’s not gambling if you can’t lose...”_

Tim leaned against a pillar in front of a tavern and looked up. It was a peaceful night. The moon shed its pale light undamped on Bilgewater, and even the few clouds in the sky didn't move. Tim was missing the ice-cold wind, which usually came from the sea, whistling through the nested and dirty streets of the harbor. He missed the fearful cries of innocents and the laughter of drunk men. Today it was suspiciously quiet. And the gambler didn't like this deceptive silence.

With narrowed eyes, he pulled the brim of his hat back deep in his face. Tonight has been successful so far. A few naive boys had lost their gold to the infamous gambler. It felt good and heavy in the pockets of Tim's coat. He was about to go back into the noisy, stuffy room of the tavern when the card in his left hand began to move.  
He eyed the small piece of cardboard, which took hold of his fingers, skeptically. For a moment he forced it to pause and listened to this unusually quiet night. Someone approached. Silently, he swirled the card through his fingers again and at just the right moment he threw it in the direction from which he suspected the unwanted visitor.  
Tim heard the card hit fabric and finally get stuck in the wooden wall. Strike!  
A confident, almost arrogant smile crept on his lips as he heard the surprised scream of his victim. Only then he slowly looked up.  
"Oh, it's you, Sarah," he said as friendly as possible, stepping toward the young, pretty woman who was nailed to the wall with the card, trying to keep her last dignity.  
"Miss Fortune for you," she spat, trying to pull the card out of her coat. Tim chuckled as he watched her fruitless attempts.  
Finally, he had mercy with the bounty hunter and let the card disappear from the wall into his sleeve. "What do you want here? Is my face hanging on your board again?" Tim asked, walking around the redhead, who tried to murder him with her gaze.  
"Hold back, Twisted Fate," she threatened, picking up one of her twin-pistols. Tim chuckled when he heard his code name and watched her with a mischievous grin. "You know, if it weren't so incredibly quiet today, I would hardly have heard you coming...", he explained and drew a gold card out of his sleeve - ready for the counterattack. "Next time you won't. And at some point, I'll tear your smug face off my board too. "  
"You are wasting your time, Miss. Take on people who play in your class. Have a nice evening."  
Tim suddenly threw three of his razor-sharp cards at her in a quick move. Miss Fortune was surprised by the attack and after she dodged the cards, the gambler was gone. "At some point, I'll get you," she threatened quietly before she turned away and stepped back into the dirty streets of Bilgewater.

Tim pushed the door of the tavern open. The sound of laughter hit him instantly and the card player heard the clink of beer mugs. _The Sparrow_ was one of the better taverns in Bilgewater, and yet all the stupid idiots hung around there. Those people were simply attracted by the alcohol, at least that's what Tim thought.  
He made his way to the counter, ordered a drink, and paid with one of his new-won gold coins. The unfriendly barkeeper slammed the glass on the dark wood in front of him and immediately turned to the next guest.  
Tim took the drink and turned around. He looked around the tavern, searching for potential victims. The simple wooden tables were mostly occupied by drunk men playing skat or poker. There was a showdown at the table to his left. If he was honest, then everyone here was a potential victim. These drunk guys liked to bet all their belongings, so they wouldn't be called a scaredy-cat. Not that said belongings were enough for Tim. He loved to play with the rich. They really had something to lose and destroying their existence was something the gambler liked a lot. It tasted sweeter. The cards in his pockets went warm at the thought of it and they started to tremble slightly.

Tim was well known in the city, so it was more or less a miracle that people still wanted to play against him. He put it to the charm of being the first to beat him. But that wouldn't happen. Because Tim couldn't lose. Maybe he didn't always play with fair means, and maybe his skills and his bond to the cards were not quite what the rule said. But Tim wasn't very interested in that.  
He had discovered early that cards were more than just printed pieces of cardboard. They told a story and if you studied them long enough and got involved with them, they helped you. Tim always knew what cards were on the table without seeing them. He felt them. It made no difference whether it was his card deck or a foreign one. All the cards spoke to him.  
However, his own deck of cards was something very special. He had won it a long while ago from playing a rich dumbass. He remembered the moment he touched the cards for the first time vividly. The power that emanated from them was incredible. They were held in beautiful blue, red, and gold, and since he had touched them, they had not left his body. He always carried them with him. They were his most dangerous weapon and his last ace up his sleeve. A pretty significant ace.  
Tim let his hand wander into his coat pocket at the thought and played with his deck a little, just to make sure it was still there and fully functional.

The gambler sighed and watched the orange-gold liquid sloshing around in his glass. He longed for a real challenge. The last few weeks had become a monotonous everyday life and he lacked the excitement.  
At that moment, _The Sparrow_ 's door swung open and a man stepped in. Dressed in black, his hood pulled deep into his face. Tim's eyes narrowed. The guy walked past him confidently and slammed three pieces of gold on the counter.  
The cards began to tremble and pulsate, and Tim knew he had found his next victim.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It sadly took me a bit longer to figure out what I exactly want to write about but here we are now, the plot is finished and I can finally really start!  
> I hope you enjoy the next chapter and thank you for all the kudos and comments :3

The Thief  
"I've got no time for games."

One could think Oskar enjoyed killing because he did it so frequently. But he didn't really like it. Humans looked pathetic when they died. They made disgusting noises, their screams hurt in the ears and most of the time they pissed on themselves. And then, then you had a dead body that was lying in the way and eventually started to stink. No, Oskar didn't really like to kill.  
But he disliked wasting his time even more. And whoever didn't give him what he wanted, had to pay for it. Some people may not agree that his time was more important than human life. But Oskar was rarely interested in what others thought of him. And by rarely he meant never.  
He looked down at the young man whose face he had just shot off with his shotgun. The bullet wasn't worth the plunder. He climbed over the body unsatisfied. He set his feet carefully, he didn't want his boots to be stained with blood. He played with the three pieces of gold he had just captured and gritted his teeth. It was time for a drink.

Oskar knew his way through Bilgewater blindly. He knew every single dirty alley, every one of the numerous floors. The thief was born and raised here with all the shit that happened every day. He was used to the rich guys on the upper floors and the poor bastards on the lower floors. Bilgewater Bay had shaped him and ultimately made him what he was now. A criminal who wasn't really afraid to go over dead bodies. Oskar paused when he heard high-heeled shoes on the wet cobblestones. He slid silently into the entrance to a back yard and held his breath. He knew who these shoes belonged to. And he didn't feel like arguing right now.  
He saw Miss Fortune running past from his hiding place. He was surprised to see her angry, almost frustrated. He knew her as a confident and quick-witted woman and wondered who or what had put her off her stride...  
Oskar stayed in his hiding place for a while until he was sure that the air was clear, then continued on his way, his hands buried deep in his coat pockets, his head bowed.

His last raids hadn't been too successful. He had had to kill too often for far too little gold. Not that he was going to get poor, he had captured enough of that in his life. But even if he could leave it be, the stealing and the killing... he didn't. Because what would life be without a certain kick? Without that certain something? Not a lot in his eyes. The squeak of a wharf rat tore him out of his thoughts. He had apparently stepped on her fishtail. Disgusting critters.  
In the meantime, he had reached the slaughter docks and looked over the monsters that were being hollowed out here. He knew that many who came here for the first time found the whole thing a little absurd and off-putting, but Oskar had gotten used to it.  
It was a little burdensome how many of the people here worked for rich captains day and night without even being paid properly. The thief had made a conscious decision against this life. He really didn't have to kiss the riches asses for every lunch. As you could see down here, there were enough others for this.  
Oskar wandered a little longer through the city than he had to. There were several taverns on his way, all of which more or less served the same beer, but he was a little restless, which made him move on. He climbed a few stories to escape the scum at sea level before finally feeling so calm as to be able to enter a tavern. He paused briefly in front of the Sparrow before taking a deep breath of the air that smelled of fish, blood, and saltwater, then he opened the door to the tavern. He wasn't aware that he still had the hood of his coat pulled deep into his face.

The Sparrow stank of beer and poor people and he wrinkled his nose briefly before making his way to the bar. He slammed his gold on the counter without saying a word. The bartender eyed him for a moment, but then quickly looked away when he met the ice-cold, bitter look from the lifeless dark gray eyes. Oskar was in no mood to chat. Not that he ever felt the need to exchange words with another person. But today he found it particularly unattractive. He was in a bad mood and had no problem letting everyone know. And if people had a problem with that, t they ould piss off or try to catch a bullet from his shotgun outside on the street.  
The bartender slammed the drink on the counter in front of him, Oskar accepted it gratefully and immediately drank it in one go.

Only then he noticed that he was being watched. A slim guy with a stupid hat eyed him with interest. What a strange outfit. "Is there a problem?" Oskar asked in a rough voice. The little wannabe wizard shrugged. "Not one that I know off."  
"Then look at someone else," the thief growled before ordering a second drink. He felt the piercing look of the guy on the back of his neck and he got goosebumps. Who was the guy and what did he want from him?  
For a moment, there was an uncomfortable silence, and Oskar no longer seemed to notice the sounds of the tavern.  
"Fancy a game?" The thief winced when the hat guy showed up next to him. Then he gritted his teeth and looked at him with a deadly look. "Do I look like I enjoy games?" he asked, studying his counterpart more closely. He had a striking face, dark gray eyes that flashed greedily, and a mischievous grin on his lips. He seemed young, definitely too young for his strange outfit. And too young for his self-confidence.  
"What do you want to play?" the thief then asked, not realizing that he had already made the decision to participate.  
"Just some poker?" The guy said it as if it was a legitimate question but Oskar felt instantly that it wasn’t. He had no say in what game they would be playing, that was obvious. He thought about it for a second and then nodded slowly. He wasn’t necessarily good at playing poker but maybe a bit of fun wouldn’t harm him.  
The face of the wannabe wizard didn't move at all when he agreed, he just turned around and walked over to a table, where a few guys were having some drinks. Without asking them, he started to move their glasses to lay out his card deck.  
Oskar watched his filigree movements with interest and was a little impressed without wanting to admit it. He had never seen anyone lay cards so elegantly before. The thief watched the slender guy scare the old men off and hire someone to act as a dealer. Then he was asked to step forward. 

Oskar sat down at the old table stained with beer and took his first hand. Decent. The cards on the table didn't really fit the ones on his hands though. He looked at his opponent without making a face. But the guy's facial features said nothing. He didn't even take a look at his cards. He just shoved a few pieces of his gold into the middle of the table. The dealer looked at Oskar. "Call?" he asked. Oskar didn't hesitate but pushed the same amount of gold into the middle. "Call," he said softly. He was confused that his opponent didn't look under his cards. Not even when the next card was turned up and he raised again. His hand didn't look too good for the thief, he actually had nothing... So he threw it away and saw a reaction on the wannabe wizard for the first time. Oskar interpreted it as satisfaction and that made him angry.  
The guy wanted to wear him down with his "I bet even though I don't know what I have" technique.  
Oskar leaned back into his chair and considered his next move. If they wanted to play blind, it was just a matter of luck and he was no friend of luck. He would keep looking under his cards no matter what the guy over there was doing.

They played a few hands and Oskar was frustrated. The wannabe wizard had won or thrown away every hand. He had never looked under his cards. Oskar didn't know what else to do. No matter what he did, he just seemed to lose. The 50 pieces of gold that he had bet at the beginning were certainly lost. He didn't know how to win it.  
Oskar had started watching the audience and no one seemed to be surprised by the behavior of his opponent. They were either pleased or as frustrated as he was - maybe because they had previously lost to the guy?

It happened as Oskar had thought. He didn't win a single hand. He wasn't surprised at the streak of bad luck he had, but there was more to it than that. After losing all of his gold, he shook his opponent's hand. "What's your name?" The guy hesitated for a moment before saying softly, "My name is Twisted Fate."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still alive! Life kinda had me caught up and then I started procrastinating but now I'm back!  
> I hope you didn't forget about this story.  
> We go right back to action, so to fresh up your memory: Tim just beat Oskar in poker and Oskar had the balls to ask him for his name.  
> Have fun with the chapter :3

Tim hesitated for a moment. Usually, no one asked him after his name. "My name is Twisted Fate," he said then, softly, watching the weird guy's face closely. However, he showed no emotion, just nodded. "What's yours?" Tim asked then.  
"They call me Graves," the guy replied. This surprised the young gambler, even if his facial features didn't reveal it. He had heard a lot about Graves, the brutal thief. He had imagined him differently. Older. Grimmer. With a scarred face and a long beard. Just as you would imagine a mass murderer. Graves didn't take his eyes off him and Tim was a little uncomfortable to be scanned by the steel-blue eyes like this. "How come you are here?" the gambler then asked. He knew he was revealing that he knew exactly who was standing in front of him. However, Tim also assumed that Graves had already heard the name Twisted Fate. "Boredom," the thief grumbled. The spectators around them had dissolved immediately after the game. Nobody really wanted to deal with the two dangerous men. They could either lose all of their belongings or their life, and that didn't sound particularly exciting in either case. So as a citizen of Bilgewater you kept as far away from anything that could mean trouble as you could.  
Tim nodded to Grave's answer. "I'm sorry I didn't exactly sweeten your day," said Tim. There was no pity in his voice.  
"It's okay," Graves grumbled and turned to the counter. Tim felt the cards vibrate in his coat pocket and resisted the urge to take them in his hand. He didn't know what they were up to and he didn't want to cause trouble. But he knew that they were unhappy. He wasn't done with Graves yet.  
He followed the thief to the counter and sat down on a barstool next to him. He immediately felt the steel-blue eyes on him. "What do you want, wizard?" Graves asked quietly. "I want to talk."  
"Talk?"  
"Talk."  
"What do we both have to talk about?" Graves raised an eyebrow.  
"Business... I guess."  
The thief didn't answer. Tim returned the mysterious look for the first time and his cards trembled again. He calmed them down by sliding a hand into his coat pocket and stroking the smooth surface. The vibration gave him goosebumps and he gritted his teeth. "I think we have similar interests," the card player continued. "... gold?" Graves concluded.  
"And thrill." Tim noticed that he had gained the thief's interest. "We would be a good team," the gambler added.   
"Team? I don’t do teams,” Graves snorted derogatory and turned to the drink he had received from the host at the beginning of the conversation. "Maybe that's why you don't succeed." Tim knew that was risky. Normally, you didn't really want to provoke a mass murderer, but he needed the kick. "What do you know about my success," Graves replied grumpily. Tim knew he had hit the nail on the head. "You know, the cards tell me a lot of things ..."  
"Oh, shut up!"  
Tim grinned mischievously. Of course, he wasn't a fortuneteller. His cards were a sensitive weapon, nothing more and nothing less.  
"So... are you in?" the gambler asked.  
"In in what?"  
"Being a team."  
Graves looked at Tim for a moment. "How does this help me?"  
"I win my games as always and you take care of me. 70-30. "  
"I'm not going to be your babysitter!"  
"60-40?"  
"50-50."  
Tim rolled his eyes. He earned the money and should split 50/50? Graves was lucky that he could see a great future in the collaboration.  
"Deal," he said. Graves hesitated for a moment, then accepted. "Deal."

The evening went on for a little longer than Tim had originally thought. He drank a few drinks, but not enough to get drunk. He knew he couldn't afford to lose his mind. Instead, he watched Graves, his new business partner. It was funny to think about the infamous thief like that, but it made his heart beat faster with excitement. The boredom was over, he was sure of it.  
"It's late," Graves grumbled at some point and emptied his glass. Tim just growled in agreement. "What's your plan?" the thief then asked.  
"I don't have a plan." Tim avoided looking into the thief's eyes. They made him nervous.  
"I thought you were the master of this game?"  
Tim shrugged. In fact, he hadn't really thought about where to go or what to do. But who could blame him? How was he supposed to ever think of having an alliance with one of the cruelest men in Bilgewater?  
"We could leave Bilgewater," Graves suggested. "What?" was Tim's witty answer. "Just take a ship and leave this fucking shithole."  
"To go where?" Tim had never thought about leaving town.  
"Anywhere." Graves leaned back. The sudden sparkle in his eyes made him look almost obsessed. "Let's steal a ship and leave. I bet there are more people to rob on the other side of the world. "  
Tim swallowed. He didn't really like the thought of being on a ship. He didn't trust the ocean, it was dangerous. If he only thought of all the monsters that the crews brought up there every day, he could really imagine something nicer than floating around on a tiny boat.  
"Are you scared?" The question was more of a statement, but Tim vehemently denied. "But do you know how to sail? How to steer a ship or how to survive? "  
Graves looked at him incredulously for a moment, then he laughed.  
"I see why you need someone to protect you. I thought we were both looking for an adventure?” Tim gritted his teeth and said nothing. He stared doggedly at the pattern of the counter's wood.  
"Oh come on, wizard." Graves poked him in the ribs. "This is what you were looking for. Don't piss yourself at the thought of getting a bit wet. "  
The gambler was actually a little surprised by the encouraging words. Apparently, he had flipped a switch in Graves. And even if he was still not convinced of this idea, he finally agreed. Because somewhere the thief was right. Tim wanted an adventure and here it was.

hortly afterward they left the tavern. The night was still unusually quiet. Tim buried his hands in his coat pockets. On the one hand, because he was a little cold and on the other hand to be closer to his cards.   
They didn't say much while walking down to the Slaughter Docks. Tim was still unsure whether he had made the right decision. He took a quick look at Graves, who was staring at the floor and also seemed deep in thought. It might not be his smartest move to trust a dangerous person who had killed innocent people, but maybe it was his most exciting. Tim was pulled out of his thoughts by the trembling of his cards. He was immediately wide awake. Holding Graves by the shoulder, he pulled him into the shadow of a house. "What's wrong?" the thief asked confused. "Shh."  
Tim listened intently and closed his eyes. He didn't hear anything. "Something is wrong, I feel it," he murmured softly to Graves, who eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure?"  
"Hundred percent." As soon as he had said the words, he threw his cards behind him. It was a reflex, nothing he could control. He didn't hit anything. But now he knew where the danger came from and turned around. Graves watched him a little confused but at least he kept his mouth shut. For a moment it was dead silent.  
"I thought I could kill two birds with one stone," they heard from the dark. Then Sarah stepped out of the shadow of the next house.  
Tim only snorted derogatorily, he had expected it. Graves shifted his gze between the gambler and the bounty hunter in surprise. "Do your fucking cards know everything?" Sarah hissed.  
"Not everything but enough for you."  
"What are you two planning?"  
"We're leaving this boring ass town," Graves growled. Sarah raised her eyebrows in surprise.  
"Is it my birthday today? Is Bilgewater finally saved? "  
"Shut up," Tim grumbled. "I know you're just sad that you can never get us."  
"I want you out of Bilgewater, one way or another", the beautiful woman claimed and played with her twin pistols. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. It was nice knowing you.” With that, Tim turned his back on her (he liked the thrill) and walked away confidently. Graves seemed to hesitate for a moment because he wasn't following the gambler instantly. He eyed Miss Fortune extensively before deciding to trust her and leave. As soon as Tim heard the thief's footsteps behind him, he glanced over his shoulder and flicked one of his razor-sharp cards in a quick, tiny gesture. She hit Miss Fortune in the shoulder just as she was lifting her twin pistols and got stuck. The bounty hunter hissed in pain. "Fuck you!" She shouted, pulling the card from her shoulder and examining the deep cut. Tim only had a satisfied grin on his lips as he disappeared around the next corner with Graves.

"You're pretty good," the thief murmured appreciatively. "I know," was Tim's humble answer. "I have my strengths."  
After that, they said nothing more. However, Tim sensed that he had earned a bit of Graves' recognition with this move and wondered if the thief might have gone down without him. However, he dismissed the thought again when he realized that without him the situation would have been completely different.

The docks were very busy as always. The men worked in shifts, the ships with the monsters arrived around the clock. It seemed like this place would never sleep. It was hectic and stank of algae and blood and intestines. Tim wrinkled his nose. "I know why I don't like ships or the ocean," he murmured softly. Graves smiled but said nothing. It was a while before they reached the ships that were left alone in the dark of the night. Tim paused and felt that Graves was also haphazard. "So which ship are we taking now?" Tim asked. The thief shrugged. "I would love to fake my knowledge about ships but it's just nonexistent."  
"So how do you think this will work? We just steal a ship and miraculously learn how to sail? "  
Graves said nothing.  
"You realize that this idea is stupid, don't you?"  
"We will make it work."  
Tim snorted in derogation. Suddenly he felt that it was all a waste of time. "We just kidnap some men," Graves decided.  
"And how many do you need to sail?"  
"I don't know! Stop asking those smart ass questions! "  
Graves turned and walked back to the busy part of the Slaughtering Docks. Tim followed him in some distance. His skepticism made him watch everything from afar.  
He quickly realized that the plan seemed to be very important to Graves. The thief actually walked up to some of the men who seemed to be taking a break and spoke to them. Tim disappeared into the darkness but remained within earshot.  
"How much does your captain pay you?"  
The men frowned in confusion. One pushed away from the post he was leaning against and took a step closer to Graves.  
"Why should that concern you?" he asked belligerently. Tim was amused by the fact that so many people didn't know Graves' face, but were afraid of his name. Perhaps that was why the thief was still successful.  
"I'll pay you more."  
The guy narrowed his eyes and scanned Graves extensively before answering, "Why should you do that?"  
"Because I need men. Now."  
The five guys remained skeptical. Graves was not impressed. "How many men does it take to steer a ship?" he asked straight ahead instead. "At least 25. Better 50," replied one of the guys. "Can you find 20 more men. In the next half hour? "  
No Answer.  
Graves reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a bulging gold sack. He threw it at one of the men. The shocked look made Tim smile. That was probably more than the guy earned in a month. "I want 25 guys here in half an hour, then you get more. If you think it's a great idea to run away with my money, let me tell you: it's not. I have a collection of the heads of the people who tried it in my basement." The thief turned away and marched in the direction from which he had come. Tim followed him in the shadow for a while and then stepped out of it. "And you think that will work?" he asked with an eyebrow raised. "It better will. Or I'll have to kill some guys."  
Tim wasn't sure if he thought the action was awesome or completely stupid, but he decided to stay. He was able to vanish quickly when it got too crazy.

To kill time, they looked at the abandoned ships. Some of them were tall and majestic, others smaller and simpler. Tim was sure that both types had their advantages, but he couldn't tell what they were.

"Why do you want to go?" Tim asked after a while of silence. Graves didn't answer directly and Tim was almost certain that he wouldn't get an answer when the thief said, "I'm just bored."  
Tim gave him a closer look because he didn't believe that reason. "And for real?" he asked then. Graves avoided eye contact and stared strained into the night. "You know, usually I kill people that ask too many questions."  
Tim kept his eyes on the infamous outlaw. The golden light of the torches barely reached them. It flattered the thief's gentle features, which made the words he had just spoken sound ridiculous. Tim was still a little surprised that Graves wasn't just an old, bitter long-bearded guy, as he had always imagined.  
At that moment the thief turned his head and looked Tim in the eye. He resisted the feeling of looking away and returned the look from the cold and emotionless eyes. In the dark of the night they looked almost black and Tim felt a shiver run down his spine. "You're lucky that you could actually be useful," Graves muttered, and Tim took a moment to understand what his words were referring to.  
Before he could reply, they heard voices on the pier. A look back showed Tim that Graves' absurd and risky plan had actually worked. They now had their men together.

Of course, their new crew didn't really like setting sail on a stolen ship, but Graves neatly handled it by quickly telling them how dead they were if they disobeyed his orders. And how rich they were when they did what he wanted. It was exciting to see how simple these people's brains worked. They really did everything for gold.  
And so it wasn't long before Tim was actually on a ship in the ocean. Something he would never have wanted. He leaned over the rail, staring into the deep black waves, trying not to go crazy thinking about all the beasts down there. He heard someone approach and he didn't even need to look around to know it was Graves. The thief leaned against the rail next to him and together they saw the lights of Bilgewater disappear into the night. "Where are we heading?" asked Tim.  
"North."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Graves and Twisted Fate stole a boat to leave Bilgewater Bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with new motivation and a new chapter!  
> Maybe some people still remember this story?  
> Either way, have fun reading!

Oskar hadn't slept long. They had gone to their cabins shortly after the lights of Bilgewater had finally disappeared into the night. Oskar's bed wasn't particularly comfortable, he could feel the springs in the thin mattress and his blanket was barely keeping him warm. When he was awakened by the sun, he felt slain. Sighing, he turned on his back, rubbed his aching eyes and resigned himself to the fact that he was awake. His brain slowly began to process what he had experienced yesterday. He couldn't quite believe that he really had just run away like that. And that together with Twisted Fate, the famous card player.  
Oskar had no idea where he was going. He didn't know anything about sailing or how to keep a crew happy. However, he was not afraid. It was more anticipation.

He got up with a groan and felt a lot older than he actually was. And that although Oskar didn't really know his age... He padded to the window and looked out. Blue. He saw blue. The sky was blue, the sea was blue. Then nothing. For a moment it occurred to him that the crew could sail him to God knows where and he would not notice. But you couldn't go wrong without a destination, right? He looked around his cabin, earlier he just fell into bed and passed out. There was a small wooden table with four chairs next to the bed and an old closet next to it. There was a shabby carpet on the wooden floor and an ugly picture of Bilgewater on the wall.  
Oskar turned to the closet and stuffed his things in. Before they had entered the ship, they had brought some clothes and whatever else was important to them. Oscar's beloved shotgun Destiny got its own section. She had served him well over the years.

Oskar had to blink when he stepped onto the deck of the ship a little later and the sun shone mercilessly on his face. Some men were busy keeping the ship on course, otherwise it was quiet. The thief discovered Twisted Fate at the bow of the ship. He had to smile briefly at the thought that he was not traveling alone. Who would have ever thought that the great lone fighter Oskar Graves would work in a team?  
He strolled down the deck and leaned against the railing next to his partner. "Already awake?" he asked.  
"Couldn’t sleep," muttered the card player, who swirled one of his cards through his fingers. Oskar just grumbled and watched the filigree movements. The guy was really good with his cards, you had to give him that.  
"They soothe me," Twisted Fate said softly. Oskar didn't know what to answer and so again he just nodded. He was really terrible about this whole "emotions" thing.  
After a moment of silence, he asked, "What's your name?"  
Twisted Fate looked at him questioningly. "I mean your real name, not your nickname."  
"Tim."  
“Tim,” repeated Oskar. The name suited him.  
"I'm Oskar."  
Tim just nodded. They were silent again. All you could hear was the sound of the waves and the faint sound of the card whirling through Tim's fingers. The sun warmed Oskar's face and he wasn't sure if he had ever felt as free as in that moment. He took a deep breath of the salty sea air, then reached into his coat pocket and took out a cigar.  
"How did you learn this? The thing with your cards?” he asked Tim.  
The card player smiled.  
"I didn't learn it. I knew it since I was born. The cards chose me."  
"So they have a mind of their own?"  
"Oh yes. The thing I had to learn is how to control them. They are able to sense things way earlier than we do and if I'm not paying attention, they just decide for me."  
"Don’t you sometimes think you’re crazy?"  
Tim raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you are telling me that cards know better than humans", Oskar defended himself. He returned the card player's gaze and he was amused to see how strong his feelings were towards the cards. He was actually hurt.  
The card stopped between his fingers and Tim held it out to Oskar. The thief put his cigar away and carefully took it. Tim watched him with eagle eyes while Oskar looked at the front and back. The card felt classy and the gold embellishments on it enhanced that precious feeling. Oskar carefully traced the sharp edges. "Do you feel it?" Tim asked.  
Oskar stared at the card and tried very hard to sense something. But eventually he had to shake his head. There was nothing there. Carefully he returned his treasure to the card player. "You wanna see what they can do?"  
"Sure."  
Tim turned around and Oskar did the same. With swift movements, the card player threw three of his cards one after the other in the direction of the mast a few meters away from them. They got stuck. Oskar stepped next to the mast and inspected the hits. They were perfectly stacked on top of one another and went into the wood quite deeply, which only spoke for the incredible power of the cards. He nodded approvingly. "Impressive, right?"  
Oskar winced when he heard Tim's voice right behind him. "How did you get there?"  
"The cards."  
Oskar shook his head in disbelief. "They can teleport me. Not far, but it's something at least."  
"You're crazy."  
"It's magic, Oskar."  
It was kind of strange to hear his name. It had been a long time since anyone had used it. Tim pulled his cards from the mast with ease and gave the thief a winning smile. Oskar just shook his head in amusement and leaned back against the railing. For the second time he reached for his cigar, but this time he also took out matches to light it.  
He had never really believed in magic. He had heard stories about it and decided they were bullshit. But now he was exposed to Tim's cards. They were real, he even touched them. Oskar thoughtfully blew out the white smoke.  
There was probably such a thing as magic after all.

Oskar got used to life on the ship surprisingly quickly. The food was bad and there was no decent beer, but otherwise it was quite easy to live with. The constant swaying didn't really bother him. Tim, however, didn't seem to take it that well. After the first day, the sea had gotten a bit rougher and Tim immediately got seasick and vomited. The crew knew a few tricks that should have helped the card player, but somehow nothing really seemed to work.  
Oskar took care of his new partner as best he could - an ability he didn't even know he had. He brought him bread and lemons - which were supposed to help - and exchanged the buckets full of vomit. It was really not a pleasant job and Oskar had almost lost the contents of his own stomach a few times when he tipped the full buckets overboard.

“I know why I hate the ocean”, Tim grumbled on the evening of the third day when Oskar brought him some bread. "Fair enough."  
"How long will we take?"  
"Maybe three more days?" Oskar said carefully. Tim groaned and for a moment the thief was afraid that his partner would start to cry. He felt really, really terrible. He was pale and looked so tired. "You're gonna get better."  
Tim laughed softly and ironically. "Sure."  
"You should really go out, it will help you."  
To Oskar's surprise, Tim nodded. Apparently he was so exhausted that he accepted anything that could maybe help. So the thief helped his problem child get up and climb onto the deck.  
It was a cold, clear night and Tim immediately began to shiver like a leaf. "I'm gonna get a blanket, don't go anywhere," muttered Oskar and Tim just snorted in amusement. It was obvious he wasn't going anywhere.  
Oskar hurried to get a blanket from his cabin. When he got to the card player, he wrapped him in it and sat down next to him on the steps that led to the steering wheel.  
For a moment they sat in silence and listened to the sound of the waves. Then Oskar asked: "Do you regret coming with me?"   
He was afraid of the answer and didn’t dare to look at Tim. He didn’t answer right away, still shivering and sweating at the same time. Oskar felt really bad for him.  
"Kind of... I just wanna get off this ship."  
Oskar nodded. He had expected that. And he was trying really hard to not be disappointed. He would regret it as well if he was literally dying, no?

Oskar got used to life on the ship surprisingly quickly. The food was bad and there was no decent beer, but otherwise it was quite easy to live with. The constant swaying didn't really bother him. Tim, however, didn't seem to take it that well. After the first day, the sea had gotten a bit rougher and Tim immediately got seasick and vomited. The crew knew a few tricks that should have helped the card player, but somehow nothing really seemed to work.  
Oskar took care of his new partner as best he could - an ability he didn't even know he had. He brought him bread and lemons - which were supposed to help - and exchanged the buckets full of vomit. It was really not a pleasant job and Oskar had almost lost the contents of his own stomach a few times when he tipped the full buckets overboard.

“I know why I hate the ocean”, Tim grumbled on the evening of the third day when Oskar brought him some bread. "Fair enough."  
"How long will we take?"  
"Maybe three more days?" Oskar said carefully. Tim groaned and for a moment the thief was afraid that his partner would start to cry. He felt really, really terrible. He was pale and looked so tired. "You're gonna get better."  
Tim laughed softly and ironically. "Sure."  
"You should really go out, it will help you."  
To Oskar's surprise, Tim nodded. Apparently he was so exhausted that he accepted anything that could maybe help. So the thief helped his problem child get up and climb onto the deck.  
It was a cold, clear night and Tim immediately began to shiver like a leaf. "I'm gonna get a blanket, don't go anywhere," muttered Oskar and Tim just snorted in amusement. It was obvious he wasn't going anywhere.  
Oskar hurried to get a blanket from his cabin. When he got to the card player, he wrapped him in it and sat down next to him on the steps that led to the steering wheel.  
For a moment they sat in silence and listened to the sound of the waves. Then Oskar asked: "Do you regret coming with me?"   
He was afraid of the answer and didn’t dare to look at Tim. He didn’t answer right away, still shivering and sweating at the same time. Oskar felt really bad for him.  
"Kind of... I just wanna get off this ship."  
Oskar nodded. He had expected that. And he was trying really hard to not be disappointed. He would regret it as well if he was literally dying, no?

They were quiet for a moment, then Oskar noticed that Tim was disturbed. "What's up?" he asked. "The cards... they are nervous."  
Oskar knew that wasn't a good thing. Tim got up, albeit unsteadily, and took two of his cards out of his coat pocket. They flew through his fingers with an ease that didn't suggest he was completely exhausted. "I'll go and get Destiny," said Oskar and ran to his cabin. His shotgun was still waiting in the closet. He quickly grabbed it and the ammunition belt that came with it and returned to Tim.

The card player stood by the railing, staring intently into the night, his cards still twirling through his fingers. “What's out there?” Oskar asked.  
"I don't know. But it is dangerous."  
As soon as Tim had spoken, something rose from the water next to their ship. It was the size of a whale, with pimply skin and huge fins. It didn't look like it had eyes, but the fangs were as big as Oskar himself. The creature threw itself back into the sea next to them and created a huge wave that almost knocked the ship over. Oskar and Tim could only stay on their feet by clawing into the railing.  
"Shit", Oskar mumbled quietly and Tim just stared doggedly into the black water, which only slowly calmed down. By the blow on the ship, the rest of the crew had become aware and streamed out of the cabins. They screamed and shouted and ran wildly across the deck to man the harpoons. Oskar tightened his grip on Destiny and aimed at the water below them. Tim seemed to be frozen solid and only when Oskar nudged him hard in the side he woke up.  
"I don't think my cards can do anything against this creature," he muttered in a tone that suggested he'd come to terms with death. "Then at least try it", Oskar grumbled. He didn't feel like dying.  
Fortunately, the creature had given them enough time to sort themselves. The next time it got out of the water, it was attacked by numerous harpoons, a shotgun and Tim's cards. Tim hit the monster's back with his golden card. For a brief moment it was immobile, then it threw itself back into the sea with force. The ship leaned dangerously and remained barely upright in the water.  
Two of the harpoons had got stuck in the thick skin and now showed the exact position of their enemy through the ropes. Oskar followed the ropes over the rear sight of his shotgun and Tim also had his eyes fixed on it.  
With a frightful cry, the monster came out of the water again. The horror ran down Oskar's spine, but he didn't let it irritate him and aimed at where he assumed the heart was. He pulled the trigger twice, saw it hit twice, and reached for his ammunition belt to reload. Tim next to him quickly fired his cards into the animal's back in seconds. Some bounced and fell into the sea, but many got stuck and caused bleeding cuts. Another harpoon hit the creature in the head. It screamed in pain and threw itself to the other side.  
This time the wave wasn't as violent and their ship wasn't in danger.  
The men retracted the harpoons, bringing the weakened creature closer to them. Oskar fired two more shots, which hit with certainty and slowly the resistance subsided. The men managed to sink two more harpoons into the large body and soon the movements stopped completely.  
Oskar took a deep breath and lowered his shotgun. Tim next to him was breathing heavily and vomited over the railing. Before he could sink to his knees, Oskar had grabbed him. Without saying a word, he picked the card player up and carried him back to the stairs where they had been sitting before. The blanket was still there. The thief quickly set Tim down and wrapped him with it. The fight seemed to have drawn all his strength from the slender card player. Even when he was sitting, Oskar had to support him.  
After a while, in which no one had said a word, Oskar picked Tim up and carried him into his cabin. He fell asleep before Oskar had even put him in bed and the thief hoped that he could at least recover a little.  
He sat by his bed and stared into the darkness of the room. From outside he could still hear the calls of the crew who were dealing with the dead monster. Only slowly did Oskar realize how close they had escaped death.


End file.
